


Smashing Hearts

by WaterHorseyBlues



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5287328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterHorseyBlues/pseuds/WaterHorseyBlues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongup struggles to cope with his feelings towards his favourite hyung and Junhong tries to be the most supportive friend he can be. However Jongup's coping methods are not working out for everyone- especially Himchan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smashing Plates

It was 3am. 3 a-fucking-m in the morning and honestly after all the promotions they'd been doing, Junhong really was not okay with being woken up by the sound of... The sound of...

Smashing?

He jerked himself awake and sat up. Bewilderedly he looked around, eyes bleary with tiredness and unable to make out shapes in the dark. The shattering sound was louder now he was conscious and definitely happening within the dorm. We're they being robbed?

He rolled out of bed and tried to stand up in an easy, quiet motion, but managed to get caught in the bedsheets. In the end he gave in to their soft warmth and draped himself in them, keeping his bare arms from the chill of the night. Taking a deep breath, he tip-toed out of his room, careful not to wake any of his hyungs who seemed to be still asleep despite the racket.

The lights were on in the kitchen, filling the hallway with a harsh glow that made each shadow even darker. Between each loud shattering sound he could hear heavy breathing and heavy footfalls. Whoever it was, they had no intention to keep quiet about it.

Somehow, knowing that someone in that room was actively breaking breaking things sent a cold sweat over the maknae. Was it some kind of anti-fan, sneaking into the dorm in the dead of the night to destroy their home? Would he get attacked if he tried to do anything? His skin crawled and he could feel every bit of lint on the floor beneath his feet and his once so cosy blankets felt flimsy and irritated at his skin.

With only the knowledge that he was likely going to at least have a height advantage over whoever had invaded their home, he took a step into the kitchen.

The scene he walked into made him subconsciously pinch himself in case he woke up.

Jongup was completely dressed, as though he'd never gone to bed, and his hair a mess. He was pulling a plate from a cupboard. He took two run-up steps across the kitchen and flung the plate like a frisbee. It collided with the far wall and smashed, the porcelain fragments falling into a pile of similar pieces beneath it.

“Hyung,” Junhong said before he could stop himself.

Jongup didn't even flinch, just turned to look at the younger as he marched back to the cupboard. “Yeah?” he asked, voice mild as though he'd been casually eating lunch rather than breaking plates at 3am.

“Um,” he began, but realised there was really no polite way to word it, “why are you breaking the plates?”

Jongup did not answer immediately, choosing to give the next plate a particularly nice spin like a discus as he threw it. “Because I can,” he said, “and because I feel like it.”

“Oh.” It was all he could manage. It was all that could really be said, now he looked at it. If he called the others but it would piss the dancer off a lot and the others would definitely not take the situation well. If he tried to stop him, he'd likely be unsuccessful and he wasn't entirely sure what the likelihood of Jongup punching him was. Instead he perched himself on a nearby chair and watched the older throw plate after plate.

There was a moment where Jongup ran out of plates, and instead began looking for other things to throw. The only other immediate option was a shelf of cups he was only just too short to reach with ease. Out of habit, Junhong slid out of the blanket as he stood up and grabbed one for him. They both paused and looked at each other, both equally surprised by this development. The pause was short, however, and Jongup reached for the cup.

Just as his fingers brushed the surface, Junhong found himself pulling the glass away from the dancer's reach. Jongup looked up a him with such vehemence in his eyes that the maknae almost fell over his own words.

“I'm not stopping you!” he insisted, trying to keep his voice low, “I just- I- Can I throw one?”

Jongup eyed him for a moment, then nodded, “Sure.”

And it was as simple as that. Junhong passed the glass over, got one for himself, and only needed to take one step to get a good sling of the arm. The cups smashed with clear, pretty sounds and tinkled to the ground in tiny pieces that glittered in the light. It was the most cathartic thing he'd ever done, and with each broken glass he felt more and more alive. He even found himself grinning when he and Jongup moved onto the wine glasses, which broke in various different ways depending on the angle they hit the wall. By the time Jongup threw an entire bottle of wine that exploded across the wall and flecked most of the room in red droplets and left a massive pool on the floor like a violent crime had been committed, he wasn't even bothered by the horrendous crash it made or the strong smell it filled the room with.

He also, he found himself almost surprised by, wasn't bothered when a furious deep voice cut through their chaos with a “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

The maknae line turned their attention to Yongguk, who was stood in the doorway with an expression Junhong didn't think he'd ever seen on his face. Behind him Daehyun and Youngjae were looking at the mess with confused sleepiness. Himchan's face was livid.

“I dunno hyung,” Junhong found himself saying with casual ease, “What do you think? We're breaking stuff.”

Yongguks face didn't change, but the others' eyes widened behind him. A creeping sense of doom filled the maknae's stomach and sent chills up his spine.

“Maybe you didn't understand what I meant,” Yongguk said in a terrifyingly controlled voice, “Why are breaking everything in the kitchen?”

Junhong opened his mouth to say something, but his throat had gone dry and closed up. His hands felt clammy and he desperately wished he'd kept the blanket on for some kind of protection. Before he could even begin to grovel, Jongup interrupted him.

“Because we can,” he said quietly, in the same tone he'd used before, “and because we want to.”

There was a horrifying moment as the two members fixed each other with equally icy stares. Eventually, Himchan desperately stepped in to dissolve the situation.

“Jongup, Junhong, go to bed. We'll talk in the morning when no one is tired and cranky. Bbang, go sit down. You two,” he flicked a finger towards Daehyun and Youngjae, who still hadn't quite grasped what was happening, “help me clean this up?”

The vocalists immediately broke out in loud complaints.

“What? That's so unfair, we didn't do anything!”

“Make them clean it up, they're the ones who broke everything!”

“They need to be punished for going weird like this!”

“We should be the ones going back to bed, not them!”

“Shut up,” Himchan cut them off, “Just listen to me for once, okay?”

“He's right,” Yongguk said quietly, surprising the vocal line into silence, “You two should go to bed. Now.”

Junhong really did not want to do that. He knew he should be the one to stay up and clean, and guilt tore at his stomach as he thought of his hyungs trying to scrub the wine out of the floor. Before he could even attempt to say anything, Jongup once again cut him off.

“Fine.”

The dancer looked incredibly uninterested by the entire situation and it unnerved Junhong in a way he couldn't put into words. He almost wished he'd walked in on an intruder rather than his own friend – if this was indeed the person he'd known all these years. He looked to Yongguk, eyes wide and pleading. The older looked back at him with such disappointment in his eyes that the maknae almost threw himself to his knees to beg for forgiveness. Instead, when Jongup pushed past him to walk out of the kitchen, he found himself hanging his head and following the dancer out.

When they were far enough away, Junhong grabbed Jongups arm and dragged him into the bathroom and locked them in. He turned around, arms crossed over his chest and leaned against the door to stop the shorter from escaping.

“What was that about?” He hissed over the hum of the extractor fan. The tiled bathroom floor was drilling cold into the soles of his feet and he tried to ignore it. It occurred to him that he'd left his blanket in the kitchen and there was no way he was returning.

“You tell me,” Jongup replied evenly, “You were doing it as well.”

“That's not the point. I was doing it because you were doing it- don't raise your eyebrow at me like that! Why are you dressed at 3am? Why were you breaking stuff?”

“I was out for a walk.” Jongup turned his face away, apparently very interested by the hand towel on the wall.

“Okay. So you went for a walk at night. Okay. Why did you come back and break plates?”

“Should I not have come back?”

“Jongup!”

“I-” Jongup's brow furrowed and he pursed his lips. Junhong waited silently, heart beating against his rib cage as he waited for a response. What he said next was not what Junhong had expected. “I like someone,” he confessed quietly.

There was a very long moment of silence between them, disturbed only by the fan and the distant sounds of the vocalists complaining and the clinks of broken crockery being cleaned up. The door was beginning to warm up the longer Junhong leaned against it and Jongup had apparently developed a great fascination with the way the texture of the towel moved under his fingers.

“Hyung,” the maknae eventually managed, “if this is how you are when you like someone,I can't imagine how you would be dating someone.”

He had meant to make a joke, try to get a smile out of the man before him who he barely even felt like he knew any more. Instead Jongup's face fell into despair and he let out a groan and fell against the wall.

“Woah! Hyung are you okay? What's wrong?” Concerned, Junhong rushed forwards and reached out to put a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. “I was just teasing you...”

It didn't seem to help much, and instead Jongup buried his face in his hands and shook a little. When a small gasp escaped between his fingers, the maknae realised the older man was crying.

“Oh, oh shit. Did I say something wrong? Shit, shit I'm sorry.” He pulled the short, shaking man into his arms and stroked the silver hair soothingly.

“It's not you,” Jongup managed, words muffled against Junhong's chest, “It's...”

“It's what?” Junhong asked, pulling away a little to look at the tear-stained face, “What is it?”

“Himchannie-hyung.”

“What?” Junhong's brows knitted together, “What did he do?”

“No. It's me who's done something wrong,” Jongup hiccuped.

“Huh?” Junhong blinked at him, baffled. Jongup looked up at him, eyes red and lips trembling. Then he said something, in a quiet shaking voice, that explained everything:

“I like Himchannie-hyung.” 

 


	2. Smashing Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mild violence, emetophobia

Jongup had been out all day, likely working on choreography at the dance studios. The splintered crockery had been mostly cleared up, but the floor cleaner had been re-applied and they'd made a little fence of chairs around the mess to keep anyone from stepping on it. Tensions had been pretty high in the dorm since the previous night and all Himchan could do was stare at the scraped and stained wall and wonder what on earth had brought the usually calm and undramatic boy to that point.

His musings were cut short as the front door opened. It could have been anyone since a few of the members were out, but he could tell from the heavy silence in place of a greeting that it was a certain short dancer trying not to draw any attention. He took a few steps to the doorway of the kitchen and glanced out into the hall, and immediately had his suspicions confirmed. There was Jongup, hood pulled low and hands tucked into the front pocket. Perhaps it was the lighting, but there seemed to be something odd about his face that Himchan couldn't quite identify from this distance.

Jongup glanced up for a moment as he made to walk towards the kitchen, but upon spotting Himchan he stopped and reached a hand back as if to head back out.

“Jongup,” Himchan said in the most gentle tone he could manage.

The younger stopped, but kept a limp hand on the door handle. His shoulders, which had been slumped when he entered, tensed up and raised like hackles as Himchan approached.

“Don't be like this. Come on, come sit down with me.” He reached out to take hold of Jongup's wrist. His fingers only managed to brush against his sleeve, but the younger flinched away like he'd been clawed. Himchan blinked and drew his hand away, unconsciously holding it in his other hand against his chest. What little of Jongup's face he could see was tensed into a strange expression he couldn't quite read – was it guilt? “Okay,” he forced himself to say after a painfully awkward silence, “Are you at least going to sit with me?”

“Of course,” Jongup answered immediately, raising his head to look at Himchan with that hurt puppy expression.

The relief that washed over Himchan as he saw that glimmer of the dancer he always knew almost made him forget why he was trying to have the conversation in the first place. It wasn't until he slung an arm around the younger only to be shrugged off did the sinking in his chest remind him. He watched Jongup slump down on the couch, shoulders hunched and gaze down. A few silver strands of hair had fallen into his face, which was still mostly obscured by his hood.

He perched himself on the edge of the cushion, slightly at an angle so he could face the younger easily. His hands fiddled in his lap uneasily and as the silence stretched between them he realised that if he ever hoped Jongup would speak first it simply was not going to happen. He cleared his throat and took a breath, trying as best he could to figure out where to start.

“Jonguppie... Why were you breaking things with Junhong last night? Has moving back into the dorms stressed you out a lot?” When Jongup didn't reply, he tried again. “If being back here is causing you problems you need to talk to us about it. What's stopping you from talking to us?” He reached out a hand and placed it gently on the other's knee, but he jerked his leg out from under his palm and looked away. Himchan barely hid the small hitch in his breath. “Jonguppie... Please, just talk to me.”

“I already told you,” Jongup mumbled, “I could do it, and I wanted to do it, so I did it.”

Himchan stared at the young man before him that couldn't have been more of a stranger if he'd changed his name. He desperately wanted to shake him, to shake out whatever had overcome his favourite member. “Jongup,” he almost whispered as he tried once again to reach out and find the boy he was so fond of, “Please take your hood off. Please.”

It wasn't often he used that pleading tone, and he couldn't think of a time he'd ever had to use it on Jongup, but it seemed to work. The younger hesitated a moment, before reaching up and pulling the hood down. His silver hair fell in a mess about his face, hiding his eyes once more. Before he could react, Himchan had reached out and brushed his hair from his face, exposing his puffy, red eyes.

“Have you been crying?” Himchan asked, concerned. But Jongup had already shoved himself off the couch and was marching away up the hall. Himchan stumbled after him, reaching out after the younger. “Jongup, come back!”

Thankfully his longer legs allowed him to catch up easily and he grabbed hold of Jongups upper arm. Jongup twisted sharply in his grip, there was a swish of something cutting through the air, a sudden sharp pain in the side of his mouth, and he was on the floor with the taste of iron on his tongue.

 

Jongup hadn't meant to do it. He really hadn't. It was some deep self-preserving instinct that had just kicked in. He would've given up everything he had to take back the last ten seconds and make it so it never happened. He would never hurt Himchan. Never. Never lay a finger on that man if it meant it would bruise him. Oh God. He'd really fucked up now.

He'd been trying to shake his hyung off, not wanting to make his life more difficult than it already was. Every time the older touched him it sparked a trembling in his chest and made his stomach hurt. He just wanted to stay away from him, until he could crush his feelings into dust and they could be friends again. He just wanted them to be like normal. But now, now he'd fucked up so badly they could never go back.

Himchan seemed to be gaining awareness of what had happened. His pink lips were starting to swell and small flecks of blood stained his lips where his teeth and Jongup's knuckles had broken the skin. He blinked as he touched his mouth and stared at the red that came away on his fingers. Then his eyes darted to look at Jongup.

He couldn't help it. He spun on the ball of his foot and ran. His heart hurt so much he might have thought it broken if it hadn't been slamming against his ribs. He could hear the voice of one of the members who'd come out upon hearing the commotion and he realised he hadn't even apologised. He hadn't stopped for a moment to help the taller man up. He hadn't shown any remorse for what he'd done.

He shut himself in his and Youngjae's shared room, thankful that the vocalist was out at the time. He slid down the door and crumpled in a heap against the floor, head against his knees. It was only when the heat of his tears soaked through the fabric did he realise that he'd been crying before he'd even made it into the bedroom.

With this knowledge, he gave in to his despair and sobbed, alone with his fingers matted into his hair. He remained like that for some time, cheeks soaked and nose running until he couldn't physically continue. At some point he managed to crawl out without anyone noticing and locked himself in the bathroom – a place that was becoming far too common for him to be crying in – and threw up into the basin of the toilet.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, shaking and sick and wishing he'd never been born, but when he finally wiped his mouth and dragged himself out, everyone else was home and talking quietly nearby. With a monumental amount of effort, he crawled into bed without taking any clothes off, and pulled the sheets over his head.

Sleep didn't come easily.

 


	3. Smashing Societal Convention

Junhong, as it turned out, had also been avoiding the dorms. It was by mere coincidence that Jongup had spotted the tallest member hunched over in a nearby coffee shop, frantically scribbling in a notebook. He'd flinched so much when Jongup tapped his shoulder that his knee – already struggling for leg room – crashed into the top of the table. It took a bit of apologising and a few _no we're not idols don't be silly_ before they could talk in some sort of privacy in their little booth.

“Yongguk-hyung cornered me before I went out today,” Junhong explained, “We ended up talking about it – no, I didn't say anything about what you told me, don't worry!” He added quickly when Jongup's face paled.

“Oh, okay,” he let out a relieved sigh, “What did you say to him then?”

Junhong swirled his drink around the cup silently and for a moment Jongup's stomach sank as he thought of the maknae and leader talking about him. His worries were quickly cut short by said maknae flopping down onto the table like a puppet with cut strings, almost knocking the little table number display onto the floor.

“I ended up grovelling and begging for forgiveness. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't stand the way he kept looking at me like I'd let everyone down. I felt like such an idiot!”

Jongup looked down at the crumpled form of the taller boy before him, guilt sitting in his throat like lodged food. “How did he take it?” He asked, voice strained somewhat.

“Really well,” Junhong wailed, looking up at him with a miserable expression, “He was so reasonable about it and he just told me that I need to be more responsible and look at consequences and ended up giving me this huge lecture about maturity and adulthood. Ugh, I feel awful.”

Jongup nodded as his friend slowly straightened himself up and flopped his head back. There was a small quiet moment between them as they both mourned for the unfortunate situations they'd put themselves in. While Junhong wasn't aware of it, Jongup felt nearly sick. The whole time he'd been wrapped up in his own feelings he hadn't for a moment considered the situation the youngest member was now in.

“Oh shit,” Junhong spoke suddenly, making Jongup flinch as he hit himself in the face, “I'm being an asshole. You're in a harder predicament than me. I heard you talked to Himchan?”

The dancer visibly tensed up at the mention of their hyung's name and he looked down, pretending to be amazingly interested in the detail of the wood grain of the table. Junhong either didn't notice his discomfort or wasn't going to let him weasel out of it.

“How did that go? I'm guessing you didn't.... You know... Say anything about... It,” the younger waved a hand as he awkwardly danced around the subject. The maknae had been unexpectedly open minded about the whole situation and had looked after Jongup most of the night after he'd admitted his feelings. It was still taking him some time to get used to the idea, though.

Now Jongup once again was not making eye contact with probably one of the most supportive friends he could ask for as he tried to find the words. He took a small breath and Junhong leaned in a little bit.

“I punched him in the face.”

Junhong blinked and leaned back, blinked again and opened his mouth. He closed his mouth and raised his hands a little as if he was going to talk again, but lowered them back down to the table.

“Um. I think I misheard you,” he eventually said.

“Did you hear me say that I punched Himchannie-hyung?”

“Yes.”

“Then you heard me right.”

There was another silence between them ans Jongup swore he could see the cogs working in Junhong's brain as he tried to comprehend what was being said.

“Right,” the younger began, “You know when I said 'if this is what you're like when you have a crush'... Are you sure you actually have a crush and don't just really hate him and you're getting the feelings confused?”

Jongup stared at him. Minutes ago he'd looked upon this boy like he was the only security he had in this world and now he looked at him wondering how he was the same person who wrote lyrics for their recent comeback.

“Junhong,” Jongup began, “Himchan is the most wonderful, beautiful, amazing person in the whole world and I couldn't hate him even if he broke my legs and burned my merchandise.”

“I see,” the maknae nodded wisely and sat up straight, stroking his chin like he'd become some sort of ancient wise man, “You're obsessed.”

“I'm not obsessed!” Jongup defended himself.

“Hmm, I've seen this before,” Junhong continued in that same faux-sagely way, “In many fans.”

“I am not an obsessed fan!” Jongup scowled at the taller boy.

“You love him so much you want to hit him.”

“That's not what it was!” Jongup slammed his hands down onto the table as he stood. His shout had caught the attention of the other customers in the coffee shop. The noise the table made beneath his attack attracted some scathing looks from the staff.

“Okay, okay sorry. I'm being an asshole again. I'm just... I don't know, trying to get my head around the situation? Look, I'm just going to pay and we can go somewhere else you won't get stared at.” When Jongup's expression didn't change Junhong gave him a small hopeful smile as he tried again, “I'll buy you a take-away burger somewhere?”

Jongup agreed before he even gave it any thought.

 

“So,” Junhong said as they perched themselves on a bench near his favourite skate park, both with a bag of food from the closest fast food chain. “Why'd you hit him? I didn't even know you had it in you to hit people. I mean, you looked pretty scary that night and I thought you might hit me then but actually hearing that you really did punch Himchan... That's so weird.”

“You were scared of me?” Jongup asked, voice quiet.

Junhong looked up and saw the dancer's devastated expression. “No,” he insisted, “Not at all. That's not what I meant. You're the angel of B.A.P. You couldn't scare me even if it was-” he paused to search desperately for words, “Halloween and also foggy and you were dressed as Daehyun-hyung when he's really hungry and I had a whole cheesecake to myself.”

Jongup blinked and a small smile pulled at his lips, “Thanks, I guess?”

“Yeah you're basically the least-scary person I know. I've got at least 10 cm on you I can put to use.”

“Don't push it.”

“Sorry.”

Jongup watched the younger smile at him nervously and he felt a sudden rush of affection for the dorky, tall boy.

“So, why did you hit him then?”

The feeling of affection was quickly replaced by agonizing misery. He looked down at his half-eaten burger and almost didn't want it. Almost. He took a bite and mulled over how to explain.

“I don't know,” he sighed, “I think... I think I'm scared of him.”

“Scared of Himchan-hyung?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Jongup bit his lip and thought hard about what to say next, “I think... I'm scared of him hating me if he finds out.”

“He won't hate you. He literally loves you. Maybe almost as much as you love him,” at Jongup's pained expression he quickly tried to remedy himself, “I mean he'll still be your friend I'm sure. I don't think he's the sort of person who kicks people down for thinking he's attractive. He'd probably marry himself if he could.”

Jongup laughed a little as he picked at his fries and Junhong grinned. “So, are you going to confess to him? I can get a bag of fake sakura petals and I'm sure we can find a school girl outfit to fit you.”

Jongup threw a handful of fries at the younger's face. “I am not ever in a million years going to confess to Himchan.”

Junhong spluttered a little as he batted away the greasy food, “If you don't confess you'll just get worse than you are now! I'm sorry, I don't want to be rude but you're an ass lately. Either you confess or you just... Find a better coping method.”

Jongup signed and bit into his burger, not wanting to talk any longer.

 


	4. Smashing Expectations

It had been exactly one week since Jongup had made his decision. One week since he'd found the perfect hours during the day to sleep in the dorm when Himchan wasn't there, and then escape back to the dance studios before anyone could intercept. One week since he'd decided the only way to deal with his feelings was to work on choreography until it was the only thing he could think of. Until all his frustration and racing heart and twisted stomach became nothing but the beat of the music and the movement of his body. Then, when he would be too exhausted to continue, he'd drag himself back and fall unconscious for far less hours than he wanted before starting it over again.

One whole week, and he was exhausted. Every muscle in his body ached, overworked and strained and under-rested in a way he never thought he'd feel again. He'd barely eaten and if he did it was because Junhong was leaving snacks around for him where Daehyun wouldn't get to them first. Occasionally he'd find extra snacks left out or a hot drink alongside what the maknae was leaving, which he assumed was the kindness of Yongguk or maybe Youngjae, who he was now rooming with.

But mostly, he was under fed, under slept, over-worked and very stressed. It showed on his face and how his dancing became sloppier by the hour. It showed in how much he hated himself when he dragged himself out of bed and how he could barely stand in the shower. It showed in every meal he started skipping because he was so underfed that his stomach sometimes hurt too much for him to even think of eating.

In the end, he wasn't even surprised when his legs gave out beneath him on that full one-week mark and he collapsed to the floor in a heap of pain. He lay there for some time, looking up at the ceiling with barely any effort in him to even think.

For the first time he felt like he'd finally worn himself down to nothing. Just an empty slate that could start up again anywhere he wanted, once he caught his breath. If he got home and got in bed, he could sleep in and wake up with a clear mind and not a single thought of Himchan.

_Himchan_

He groaned and knocked his head back against the floor, hating himself for letting that man slip into his thoughts once more. Colours swam in front of his vision and a dull ache seeped into the back of his skull. He'd either hit his head harder than he meant or moved too fast or maybe both but either way he was now in a worse state than he was before and it was far too much for him to handle any more and now tears were burning at his eyes and oh for fucks sake he didn't want to cry again but it was too late and tears were spilling out of his eyes and oh fuck he was the worst person ever.

He rolled over and looked at his reflection in the wall mirrors. He was barely recognisable. His cheeks were gaunt and his eyes were rimmed with darkness from lack of sleep. His stomach dipped in sharply beneath his ribs where he hadn't eaten and his skin was pale from the illness of his misery. He was a skeleton of himself.

He dragged himself towards that ugly reflection and knelt before it, resting his forehead against the cool glass. It was disgustingly difficult to do. He was weak like this. He raised a fist and slammed it with all the effort he could muster against the mirror.

His fingers slumped against the glass with a light thud, knuckles barely even bruised. His hand slid down to his side as the last of his energy escaped him.

Useless, he told the reflection. Worthless. Pointless. Pathetic. Pitiful.

He thought about Himchan seeing him like this and he screwed his eyes closed as tears burned at his face again. Stupid, he thought. So stupid.

He knelt there, curled against his own reflection, and sobbed. It was dry and his body trembled and shook and all he could manage were small gasps and heaves. There was nothing left to cry out. Nothing in him to produce anything more. Nothing left.

He was nothing.

 

“Tell me where he is. Now.” Himchan had Junhong cornered, arms crossed and a stern look on his face. The taller boy was squirming under his gaze, eyes darting around as he looked for escape.

“I don't know, I haven't seen him around. No one has. I don't know anything.” Junhong tried to slide to one side, but Himchan caught his wrist before he could escape.

“Tell me where he is or I will tell Yongguk about the time I walked in on you wearing his clothes and pretending to be him.”

The maknae flushed with embarrassment. “You wouldn't!”

“For Jonguppie's sake, I would. So tell me.”

The younger squirmed for a moment as he tried to find a way out of the situation, before caving, “He's at the dance studios right now. Please don't tell Yongguk-hyung about that, I'll die if he finds out.”

“Thank you,” Himchan half sang as he patted the maknae's cheek, “Oh and he already knows, I showed him a photo and he thought it was cute.”

As he grabbed a jacket and marched out, fighting against a grin as the maknae screeched behind him.

It was pretty late but he barely gave it a thought as he made his way to Jongup. His lip had healed perfectly fine with barely a scratch left, and all of the swelling had passed. He would have been more bothered by the damage to his appearances if he wasn't far more concerned about the dancer. He hadn't heard from him in over a week and he wasn't going to wait for the younger to reach a point where he was willing to approach him any more.

When he glanced into the studio, he almost thought it empty. It wasn't until he spotted the tiny figure hunched against the mirrors did he finally get a look at Jongup. The sight of the malnourished boy broke his heart.

“Jongup?,” he almost whispered.

The dancer flinched a little and turned his head to look back at him. He looked like a ghost.

“Go away,” he mumbled, turning away from Himchan and pressing his face against the mirror again.

“No,” Himchan replied, taking off his jacket and tossing it aside. He walked over and sat beside the younger member, frowning at him. “I'm not leaving until you talk to me properly. I'm saying right here until we're normal again.”

Jongup scowled. That was the exact opposite of what he needed to happen for them to be normal. “Why did you have to come here and bother me?”

“Because I could, and I wanted to. So I did,” He replied echoing the dancer's words.

“I don't want to talk to you.” Jongup's voice wavered slightly as he spoke.

“Why won't you talk to me?” He asked. When he got no response, he reached out to rest his hand on Jongup's shoulder. Jongup tried to shake him off, but his weak body wouldn't let him muster the effort to do it. Himchan quickly took advantage of his and forcibly turned the younger boy around to face him.

“Jongup,” he started, but the younger turned his face away, “Look at at me.”

When Jongup turned his face to Himchan, his gaze wavered around as he avoided looking into his eyes.

“Have you been crying again?” Himchan asked, brow furrowing a little as he raised his other hand to brush over the other's exhausted face.

Jongup leaned away from his touch and tried to push him away with weak arms, “Doesn't matter. Please go away.”

Himchan watched the frail boy try to shove him and felt a lump form in his throat. “Jongup, whatever I did, I'm really sorry.”

The dancer stopped pushing and looked up at him, confusion etched between his brows. “What?”

“Whatever I did to make you hate me, I didn't mean to and I'm sorry. Can I make it up to you somehow?” Jongup's expression changed immediately, eyes widening as Himchan continued. “I've been trying to think over these past few weeks and I don't know what I did but I'll never do any of it again if it means you'll talk to me again.” He moved both hands to take hold of Jongups, pleading now. “I knew I drove you crazy sometimes but I didn't think I could upset you this much. Please forgive me Jonguppie.”

Jongup's fingers squeezed around Himchan's hands and it made the visual's heart skip a beat. “Himchannie-hyung, I could never hate you. I-” Jongup tried to stop himself, but the words began to pour out of him beyond his control. “I love you. I love you more than dancing and more than music and more than being on stage. I love you more than my favourite songs and more than millions of cheering fans. I love everything about you.” tears had finally formed and were rolling down his cheeks and Himchan was staring at him with huge eyes but he couldn't stop himself. “When you're being competitive I still love you. When you're being over dramatic I still love you. I love you when you drive me up the wall with pointless requests and I love you when you can't get the choreography right. I love you when you get too grabby. I love you when you're drunk and you're annoying us. I love you when you're complaining and I love you when you're being rude and I love you when you think you look bad but you don't because you always look perfect,” he took a breath here, only just realising that this was the most he'd spoken in one go in quite a while. “I even love you now, even though you probably hate me. And I'll still love you tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. I'll love you forever I think. Even if you hate me until the day you die and even after that. I could never hate you, because I love you too much.”

Himchan stared at the crying boy in silence, taking a while to absorb it all. Jongup dropped his gaze and yanked his hands free from their hold.

“Why do you think I would hate you?” Himchan finally asked, voice quiet.

“Because...” Jongup began. He looked around as if the words might present themselves on a wall or the floor. When they didn't, he shrugged a little. “I don't know.”

“Jongup, you know I love you. I couldn't hate you for loving me back.”

Jongup let out a strained noise in the back of his throat and shook his head, “It's not the same, hyung. It's not the same kind of love.”

Himchan raised his hands and cupped them around Jongup's cheeks, holding his face gently. “Jongup,” he waited until the younger was looking him in the eyes before continuing, “It is the same.” Before the younger could attempt to disagree, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

Jongup could barely react. His brain had completely numbed when Himchan had spoken those last few words and now the sensation of those beautiful lips on his own was taking over every part of him until he couldn't imagine not feeling it. When their lips finally parted, his brain kicked into gear again.

Himchan was looking at him with a slightly worried expression, pretty lips still slightly parted and and eyes searching his face for some kind of response. It suddenly occurred to the younger that he hadn't reciprocated at all. Panic kicked in and before Himchan's expression could get any more distressed, he leaned in and pressed their mouths together once more, this time wrapping his arms around the man he loved so desperately and trying with every exhausted ounce of his body to communicate his emotions.

Though taken by surprise, it didn't take long for Himchan to kiss him back, letting out a small sigh against his lips. Fingers curled into hair and grabbed at tops and their legs knocked awkwardly against each other as they pulled themselves as close to each other as possible. When they finally broke apart, Jongup was crying again and he had no idea why, but Himchan laughed and placed delicate kisses over his cheeks to clear them away.

“Come on,” the older murmured against his skin, “you look like hell. I'll buy you some food and then you're going to catch up on sleep. No arguments.”

Jongup nodded and finally felt a smile stretch across his face. “Can we get burgers?”

“Jesus Christ, boy, you avoid me solidly for a week, yell at me when I come to see you and then demand burgers from me when you finally realise that I don't hate you.”

“So will you?”

“Yes, of course.”


End file.
